The Landlord's Other Daughter (remix of The Chimes at Midnight)
by starfishstar
Summary: There were two kinds of goodbyes, Narcissa thought. This was not the one she had wanted to say tonight. (Part 1 of La Ronde Noire)


**Note:** This is a remix of stereolightning's story "The Chimes at Midnight," so all credit to her! I'm just playing in a sandcastle someone else built in a sandbox someone else owns :-)

**Updated note:** This began as a single story, but has since – thanks to an inspired suggestion from stereolightning – become part 1 of a small series of stories I'm calling "La Ronde Noire." A "la ronde" is a format in which each subsequent scene follows one character from the previous scene and introduces one new one, until it eventually circles around to the first pair of characters again. These stories follow characters and themes among the Black family siblings and cousins over the years.

. . . . .

It wasn't that Narcissa was watching, exactly.

She wouldn't have said she was keeping an eye on Andromeda or tracking her every movement through the heaving crowd here to celebrate Bellatrix's engagement – the wizarding world's finest society had gathered tonight to sip the best imported champagne and appreciate the strains of a string quartet of the highest quality, because everyone who was anyone knew Cygnus Black would have nothing less at this, the celebration of his eldest daughter's betrothal.

Yet Narcissa saw the moment the hem of Andromeda's deep green dress disappeared through the door at the end of the ballroom. Narcissa waited a decorous five minutes, then followed.

Mother and Father were in discussion with the Minister for Magic as Narcissa slid past them in the crowd, and she couldn't help the little flicker of pride that brought. Father and Mother were personal friends with the Minister! Narcissa only hoped someday she might be able to say the same.

Andromeda wasn't in her bedroom, but Narcissa had an idea where else she might be. Just like Andromeda, really, to try to slip away in the night.

So up and up Narcissa went, climbing the narrow stairs that led to the observatory that perched at the top of the house, the crowning glory of an elegant home. It was a beautiful room, and Narcissa generally found a pretext to bring any visiting friends up here at least once.

The closer she got to the top of the stairs, the less she bothered to keep quiet. Why should she? She wasn't the one with anything to hide.

Narcissa turned the silver doorknob.

One large window was flung open and a warm summer breeze wafted into the high-ceilinged observatory. In the middle of the room stood Andromeda, hand frozen in the motion of trailing across one of the instruments. Andromeda looked a lot like Bellatrix, but the two of them were _nothing_ alike, Narcissa thought fiercely.

That wasn't really true, though, was it? They both always found a way to get what they wanted.

"I'm not stupid, you know," Narcissa said, and closed the observatory door gently behind her. It wouldn't do, now, to have anyone hear them here.

"I don't think that you are, Ciss," Andromeda said. That stupid childhood nickname.

Andromeda was dressed and ready to go, travelling cape flung around her shoulders. Was he coming _here_ then? Into their very own home, sneaking in to steal away the nobleman's daughter, like the romantic hero he probably thought he was?

Even Narcissa had read "The Highwayman." That Muggle was _not_ the Highwayman.

Narcissa crossed her arms, hating the way Andromeda was looking at her, as if _she_, Narcissa, were the pitiable one here. "Nobody brings a travelling cloak if they're just ducking outside for a fag," she snapped. "Especially not in summer."

Andromeda didn't even bother to answer. No, that was where Narcissa's two sisters differed. Bellatrix always had a ready retort, a way to twist the situation to her benefit. Andromeda was the sneaky, quiet one. Andromeda was the one you had to watch.

Downstairs, Bellatrix was six gin and tonics into a 200-guest gala in her honour, sparkling like a dark-haired jewel in her goblin-made tiara, riding the swell of her sea of admirers.

Narcissa envied her oldest sister, sure, she would admit that. Bellatrix had everything a girl could want, the perfect catch of a fiancé and the palatial old mansion just waiting for her to arrive and become its mistress. Narcissa had seen Lestrange Manor, and she had to admit Bellatrix was born to rule its halls. Mostly people didn't even see Narcissa, when her two dramatic older sisters were around.

And still Andromeda said nothing, as if she thought maybe Narcissa was actually dumb enough to think she'd snuck away from the party just to enjoy the view from up here.

"That's a pretty dress," Narcissa said, because it was, and it wasn't fair that Andromeda still looked as though she belonged here, when she didn't. "Are you going to give that back to us when you leave, or are you going to keep it? Because I doubt you'll be wearing silk and feathers where you're going. Maybe you should have borrowed something from one of the house elves. That would be more appropriate."

Andromeda winced. "Ciss, listen, let me explain –"

If she'd thought about it at all, Narcissa had determined to be cold and devastatingly collected when this moment came, to beat Andromeda at her own game by being even more quietly dangerous than she was, but Narcissa was 16 and her world was turning upside down, and in the space of one night one sister was leaving her for a fairytale come true and the other was about to turn life for all the rest of them into a living nightmare.

"No. You listen," she hissed. "Because this is probably the last time I'll ever see you, so you just shut your mouth, Andy. You are ruining my life, do you know that? Who's going to want me when I've got a damned Mudblood for a brother-in-law, then? And who's going to take care of Mother when she finds out about this and takes to her bed again for weeks and weeks? Because Bella is already engaged, she's got one foot out the door, and I am going to be the one dealing with the consequences of your actions, Andy, for ever and ever. Me. Not you."

Pinching her lips shut to stop the torrent of words, Narcissa fumbled for a cigarette, where she'd hidden them in the innermost pocket of her pretty silver robes, the ones Father had bought her just for this special night. She pulled out her wand, too, and lit the cigarette with hands that studiously did not shake.

"Since when do you smoke?" Andromeda asked. As if she cared.

"Since when do you care more about a boy than about us?" Narcissa retorted. "And a Hufflepuff, of all possible choices." She exhaled a plume of bluish smoke towards the glass-panelled ceiling, minutely pleased that she, too, could shock Andromeda, even if it was with something as inconsequential as a cigarette. "How much of our gold have you stolen, anyway?"

"I've taken nothing that wasn't mine to begin with," Andromeda said, and the awful thing was that she _believed_ that. Andromeda had grown up here right in this very same house with Narcissa, yet she'd somehow managed to reach the age of majority without feeling she bore any sort of responsibility to the family that had made her who she was.

"Set yourself up with a nice dowry?" Narcissa mocked. Mudbloods didn't care about dowries, she knew that for a fact.

"It's a lot less than what yours will be. And it's not illegal, Ciss. There was gold contingent upon my finishing my seventh year and returning home. And I have returned home."

"For three days!" Narcissa said, and coughed on her cigarette and her frustration.

"Yes." Andromeda blinked as Narcissa's smoke wafted into her eyes, and Narcissa had to fight not to smile bitterly.

Blinking again, Andromeda said, "Look, you don't have to stay here, either. Make your own choices. Marry someone you actually like. Or don't marry anybody. I don't see why who we marry has to be so important, anyway. It's nobody else's business."

That was the problem with Andromeda, she didn't see. She never had seen. Or maybe she had, once, but she'd let that Muggle distract her. But Andromeda didn't understand that even if you weren't a son, even if you weren't the eldest child, there were always responsibilities. You didn't just walk away.

Narcissa toyed with one of the brass instruments, trying to think of something suitably cutting to say. She didn't really care much for Astronomy, truth be told. It was all a lot of boring charts and figures. But she loved the way the brightly shining instruments looked, all arrayed here together. And she loved looking up at the night sky and picking out her family's names.

Finally she said, "You're going to die poor and alone, you know that? He can't look after you. And the way things are going, he's likely to get himself killed anyway."

Andromeda was fast, Narcissa would give her that. She rounded on Narcissa, wand already drawn and slashing. The lit cigarette flew from Narcissa's hand so fast it almost burned, sailed through the air and hit one of the windows with a miniature _thwack_. Narcissa felt her hand jerk back in surprise.

"Don't you dare say that to me. Don't you ever, ever say that to me," Andromeda said, deadly angry and cold.

Narcissa drew her wand and pointed it at her sister. Andromeda was not the only one who could duel. Andromeda was not the only one who was angry. They stared at each other, two sisters who were each quick, each capable, each unwilling to give an inch. Finally, in tandem, they lowered their wands.

Nonchalantly, Narcissa withdrew a second cigarette from her inner pocket, lit it, and stowed her wand safely away again. She inhaled, exhaled, twirled the cigarette between her fingers, daring Andromeda to comment. She gazed at the glowing tip, seeing how long she could stretch out the silence.

"I'm staying," she said at last. "I am not going to abandon my family. For anything. Ever." Andromeda ought to hear that one more time, even if it never quite got through her stubborn head.

Narcissa took another drag, then crossed her arms, cigarette dangling from two fingers, and rocked back on the heels of her dragon-hide boots, the leather butter-smooth and snow-white and Italian-made. Another gift from Father. Another thing Andromeda apparently didn't care she was leaving behind for good.

Andromeda was looking out the window, lost in thought about Merlin knew what. Narcissa supposed she'd given up, long ago, trying to understand the things Andromeda valued.

Finally Andromeda said, "I hate that this is how you're going to remember me. I hate that you think I'm abandoning you. But someday you will love somebody enough that you're willing to break with expectation. Or I hope you will, anyway."

Narcissa tried to glare, show just what she thought of that sentiment, but it came out more like a pained frown.

The problem wasn't really that that Mudblood thought he was some highwayman hero. The problem was that Andromeda herself thought she was the landlord's daughter, ready to die for the idea of love.

Andromeda had love all backwards. Love wasn't something you went looking for. Love was something you clung to like mad, if you were lucky enough to have it already. Love was something you never gave up, even if it was _just_ a sister. Yet here her sister was, all ready to fly away.

"Ciss –" Andromeda began.

There was a tap at the window, and Narcissa turned despite herself. Yes, what a surprise, the Muggle had arrived, perched on a broomstick outside their window, a thief in the night.

He dismounted on the little ledge that ran along outside the observatory and ducked in through the window Andromeda had left open for him. When he saw Narcissa, his step faltered infinitesimally, but he gave her a little wave. A _wave_. Narcissa stared at him, blood running cold at his audacity. She didn't even know whether to express her derision or ignore him like he deserved.

"Ciss," Andromeda said, beckoning her sister closer to them. She'd already stepped closer to him, maybe without even realising it. He handed Andromeda a second broomstick and kissed her, serious, as if in doing so he sealed some weighty contract. Narcissa frowned, repulsed, but unable to look away.

"What," she demanded.

"Visit me. I'll write to you. I'll send you the address."

All this, and still Andromeda thought things could be smoothed over with a few pretty words. Narcissa stubbed her cigarette out against the nearest brass globe, the movement controlled and vicious. "We both know that will never happen, Andy."

"Then come and say goodbye to me."

No. Not like this.

There were two kinds of goodbyes, Narcissa thought. There was the goodbye you said to a sister who was leaving you to marry her lord and rule her manor, the sister you would envy, but who would teach you everything she knew. And there was the goodbye you said to a sister who was throwing away her whole life, and you were going to stand there and let her do it, because you loved her too much to beg her to stay.

This was not the goodbye Narcissa had wanted to say tonight.

"Go," she said instead. "I'll say you've gone to bed with a headache."

Andromeda just stared at her, baffled, and Narcissa turned on her heel and reached for the observatory door, opening it and stepping through, out of this strange nightmare fairytale of Andromeda's and back into the world she understood.

She didn't look back. She didn't listen for the sound of Andromeda's voice or of her kicking off against the stone floor or of the observatory window closing behind them. She didn't cry, or if she did, the tears were wiped away long before she reached the ground floor and lost herself again in the crowd here to celebrate her sister's betrothal.

. . . . .

(Continue to part 2 of La Ronde Noire: "Tea, No Sympathy")


End file.
